Shattered Skies
by Alfa290
Summary: There never were Prothean ruins on Mars. Humanity never had its technology handed to it on a silver platter. For the past four centuries humans have expanded, fractured, and advanced without knowledge of the wider galaxy. Until a routine mineral scouting mission goes very, very wrong.
1. The Deep Breath

The Deep Breath

Vortarus Eastern Defense Perimeter, Khar'shan

Karhaf looked up from his foxhole. The invaders would be here soon. They had smashed through the pathetic remains of the navy at the Mass Relay. The moons of Verush and their defensive emplacements had been reduced to space dust. He didn't delude himself with the thought the token planetary defense fleet would hold more than an hour.

As if on cue, the ancient dreadnought _GHV_ _Hammer of Justice _broke through the cloud cover over the city. The rear half of the vessel was nothing but a trail of burning metal streaking through the sky. The forward half was in marginally better shape as it still vaguely resembled the once glorious ship, that is, until a pillar of blue light descended from the heavens obliterating the remains of the _Hammer _and most of the Northern Defense Perimeter.

Immediately after, he heard it, the _sound_, the final sign of impending doom. It started as a low, throbbing rumble giving way to a high pitched screaming sound. He double checked that he had disruptor rounds activated. He settled into a stable firing position and began to wait for the inevitable. The screams of his comrades could be heard among the deep bass of the machine's steps and staccato noise of weapon fire.

In his position Karhaf waited to die.

* * *

21 years prior

_UNV E-551 "Werewolf"_

Location: 40,000km over R12-S4-T4 "Styx"

"Sir, something just came up on long range scanners. I think you need to see this."

* * *

**A/N: **

This is going to be a Mass Effect first contact story and, hopefully, I'll eventually finish it with the Reaper War. Also, this is the first time I've ever really done anything like this so please R&R. That being said please be gentle. Who am I kidding? This is the internet.


	2. Another Day at the Office

Another Day at the Office

January 23, 2448

_UNV E-551 "Werewolf"_

Location: 40,000km over R12-S4-T4*

Gauntt groaned as he slowly rolled off of his bunk. He was somewhat older than the rest of his crew at a little over 50 years. His hair was a light brown streaked with steel grey and his face had ever deepening lines created by the stress of near constant frontline combat for 20 years. The only thing that stopped his small crew of young bucks from calling him "Old Man" were his eyes. They were well worn around the edges and were a rather flat brown but they still had the fire and quickness of a much younger man in them.

As his feet touched the floor he was ever so grateful that Waltman had managed to fix the grav-gen systems in crew quarters. Oh sure, zero-g was always good for a lark but when you wanted to get things done on a ship it quickly turned into a pain in the ass. Not only did it generally cause mild to severe disorientation, nausea, and a little vomiting if you _really_ couldn't handle it, but it also made all your tools float away when you turned your back. Either way, Waltman had worked his magic and the grav-plates for the whole ship were working again.

He did some short stretches in the crew quarters to wake his uncooperative limbs up then opened his personal locker. Inside was a picture of his family, a photo of his old unit, and above all else, exactly what he needed _right now._ He pulled the packet of instant coffee from his locker and added it to his canteen. Taking a luxurious gulp he quietly thought, _maybe today won't be so bad after all._

Deciding to see if they were ready to begin ground surveying Gauntt began walking toward the cockpit. The hallway to said cockpit was cramped, but then again _everything_ was cramped and a little claustrophobic on the _Werewolf_. It's not like there was much space to begin with on a ship that was 50 meters long. But when your ship was pushing a century old you really couldn't complain too much about the lack of amenities. Not in the least because it came dirt cheap with all of the equipment included in the purchase.

Walking into the cockpit of the small prospecting ship he stopped to listen to the pilot, a somewhat hot tempered Terran, and the Shipboard Intelligence argue.

"…the weight?" asked the pilot gesticulating wildly towards thin air.

"Negative, orbiter 8 is the last probe onboard. All others have been launched," was the electronic sounding reply.

"Sarah, why didn't you tell me about this earlier? Then we wouldn't need to do a last minute course correction to compensate for the higher than expected mass." The exasperated sigh that followed the statement almost made Gauntt burst out laughing.

"Built-in-Test functions for orbiter 8 and its holding clamp reported the system was fully operational Pilot Salle."

"So now you're telling me BiT isn't working right?" the pilot threw his hands up as he continued, "Great, just fantastic, what if one of the other orbiters has the same problem but this time not with its launch systems but a different one?"

"Orbiters 1 thru 7 have all reported correct deployment and optimal function," was the monotone answer.

"And this makes me feel better, why?"

"Built-in-Test and Operation Monitoring software and hardware are separate."

Tilting his head from side to side and working his jaw slowly, Salle conceded "I guess you have a point."

Grinning ever so slightly, Gauntt tapped Salle's shoulder.

"Morning Chief, how's the coffee?" Salle asked without bothering to look up from his console.

"Same as always, cold and a bit bitter," He replied with a small grin, "What were you and Sarah talking about?"

Salle scowled before saying, "Oh, well orbiter 8 had a launch software error that BiT didn't detect. So now we need to do a course correction to compensate for the extra mass. Two hundredish extra kilograms of mass can play Hell with orbits and maneuvers in space, especially when you're trying to save your fuel."

"Point taken. Are Waltman and Hyben working on the probe?"

"Yeah, I already let them know. By the way, tell Grim thanks for fixing the grav-plates. Now I don't have to worry about a sharp turn at Mach 25 turning us all into paste," He said with an impish grin on his face.

Gauntt winced at the thought of grav-plate accidents, they were never pretty. "Thank you for _that_ pleasant image," He said in the most even voice he could manage, "Anyway, I'll let him know. Also, when will we be in position to launch the lander?"

"Two, maybe three hours depending on how the extra weight affects our orbit and when the orbiters start transmitting us data." responded the pilot after glancing at a nearby monitor.

"Okay, you and Sarah play nice and have some fun."

Salle snorted derisively at the parting shot before getting back to work on the course correction.

* * *

Waltman was on his back looking at the source of his current headache. Underneath orbiter 8's holding clamp he could easily see the three dime sized holes in the electronics board's shielding. They were small, almost perfectly round and had undoubtedly destroyed the delicate equipment inside.

"Boxer, could you pass me the 8mm wrench, please?" asked Waltman from under the malfunctioning probe.

"Sure, here you go." A small hex wrench suddenly appeared near his hand. He gratefully accepted it and got to work taking off the electronics board shielding. After less than a minute of unscrewing, the cover came off and Waltman got a good look at the remains of the control circuit board. _Just another day on this second-hand bucket of bolts_, he thought, _Oh well, at least this one is easier than the grav-plates_. With a sigh he systematically began removing and cataloguing the damaged parts that needed to be replaced.

* * *

"Okay, you strapped in?"

"Yes, Ford I'm all good. Now can we get this show on the road?" asked Hyben sounding mildly annoyed.

"Sure thing princess. Salle, how're we looking?"

"Everything is go on my end Ford. I've got solid feed from all orbiters including 8 so we won't lose contact. We should have a full radar map of the surface in 8 hours, so I'll let you know if we see anything interesting up here," stated Salle in a rather clinical tone.

"Alrighty then, ready when you are."

"Launching in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Detach. I'm reading clean separation."

"Copy and confirm separation is clean. Moving to descent trajectory to begin ground survey of this miserable looking red ball of dirt."

"Cheer up Kyle, you've got Boxer to keep you company, and hey, you know that red means that there's iron here," came the ever so cheerful response.

"'And where there's iron there are other metals' sure I remember that lecture too. That doesn't mean that I enjoy having to clean my gear and the lander every time we hit a planet like this." grumbled Ford.

"Believe me, I agree, I hate it when you come in trailing red dust, but we all got bills to pay so let's get it done." To Ford's surprise the Chief had spoken up with that little tidbit, usually he stayed out of the verbal sparring matches.

Quickly recovering Ford said, "Roger that, sir. We are dirt side in 10 mikes. We'll reestablish link once we break through atmo."

"Understood," that was Salle again, "try not to die in the mean time, _Werewolf _out."

"Do you ever think happy thoughts?" Ford mumbled to himself.

"What was that?" asked Hyben in the seat next to him.

"Nothing, just..."

"No, not what you said. What was that thing that just popped up out of nowhere then disappeared?"

* * *

**A/N: **Okay maybe not the most exciting chapter but I need to introduce you to these guys, gal, and robot as well as the ship. Also, Salle is _not _pronounced the same as Sally. The very real person whose name I used for that character tends to get pissy when you call him that. From the way I understand it, you say it like **AL** from **Alan **but with a '**S**' in front. Moving on, the _Werewolf_ and its crew are going to be the focus of the first few chapters, mostly to help just set up how humans operate in this version of Mass Effect. Hopefully I can figure out how to either compress these chapters without throwing a wall of text at you or just make it more interesting because right now it needs so serious TLC. As always, please R&R, I'd like to hear what you have to say and until next time, peace out.

**-Edited 3/29/2014 **Thank you for pointing out the errors hornet07, and OMAC001 I am really torn over what I should do with a Codex. And to everybody that has favorited, followed, and above all else _reviewed _this story, thank you. The comments have been constructive and I love reading them. By the way, yes, France is a thing in space. Not a major thing but still a thing.

*** **It means Relay 12- System 4- Terrestrial Planet 4. Relay by order of discovery, System by order of distance from Relay (System 1 has the Relay in it), and Planets ordered by distance from their home stars.


	3. Codex: Expansion

**Codex: Human Expansion in ****Space**

_Slow Boat to the Stars_

The first one and a half centuries of human space exploration and expansion were dominated by massive STL ships that could be up to 15 kilometers long and house up to 30,000 cryogenically frozen people as well as any supplies they would need for their voyage. These vessels would later be dubbed "slow boats" after the advent of effective, large scale FTL warp drives. At top speed, some of these vessels could reach 15% the speed of light and reach Alpha Centauri in 50 years. All colonies in Sol, Alpha Centauri, and Bernard systems were founded in this way. The practice of slow boat transit persisted until safer, more efficient warp drives were developed. Even after, there was a small market that existed until the discovery of Mass Effect technology and the creation of the slip-drive in 2395AD.

_(-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-)_

_The Light Speed Problem_

Without the knowledge provided by the Prothean Archives to help break the light speed barrier humanity does not develop effective FTL systems until 2203 AD. Multiple proof-of-concept and test flights had been performed before that time, with fragments of declassified information suggesting attempts by a recently rebuilt NASA as early as 2140 AD to test FTL warp technology. However, there were two massive obstacles to the use of FTL warp technology: the extreme fuel consumption and the massive gravitational waves generated by the warp field. The first problem was eventually solved by the use of fusion generators and reconfiguring the warp "bubble." It was not until 2239 AD the second problem was solved by a German science team that had been studying aquatic life and its possible application in founding colonies. Even though the math had been solved, the first safe "in-system" warp drive did not become available until almost twenty years later and ran smack dab back into the first problem. This back and forth between long-range and short-range warp technology would continue until 2395AD.

Also of note about FTL warp technology is that the intense heat generated by creating the "bubble" forced advancement of human vessel plating. As well, the precursors to modern Shipboard Intelligences were created to help safely calculate and complete jumps that would avoid objects large enough to destabilize the warp field and destroy anything unlucky enough to be inside on a subatomic level. Weaponization of warp technology is strictly banned under the New Geneva Conventions.

___(-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-)_

_One Small Step_

By the year 2197AD humanity could build large scale graviton generators that worked consistently but were as inefficient as they were physically imposing and scientifically impressive. They were primarily used on large space stations such as the International Space Station, Jump Zero, and Bespin Station to provide anywhere from .5 to .9 Earth gravities for its users. However, after over a hundred years of patient researching, miniaturization, and a massive breakthrough in energy generation and storage, the fourth generation of graviton generators that came out in 2267AD could not only be powered by a ship board power plant but were powerful enough to provide up to 20 Earths of gravity allowing a massive increase in speed for real space transit.

Previously, the speed for "live" transit had to be kept below the "Blackout Line" where passengers and crew would blackout due to blood pooling cutting off their circulation. The reason was the g-force generated by the speed they were travelling at caused the blood to pool in certain parts of the body and the human heart simply was not designed to handle the stress. The 4th generation grav-gens and revolutionary grav-plates eliminated the problem over night by nullifying the feeling of acceleration.

However, it is important to note that grav-plates _do not _cancel out the effects of gravitons from another location, only cancel acceleration imparted by ships onto their passengers. Nor do graviton fields affect the _mass _of an object only the _weight_. Only one record exists of an experiment to weaponize gran-gen technology, it was salvaged from an asteroid field that was once a small mining world. They are banned under the New Geneva Conventions for use as weapons and the practice of "planet cracking" using grav-gen technology is strictly regulated throughout human space.

___(-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-)_

_Poor Communication Kills_

For the first several generations of space flight communications were limited to standard electromagnetic transmissions, i.e. microwave, radio, and laser communication. This posed a massive problem because even though light was the fastest human communications could go, it was woefully inadequate even within single systems. For instance, the time it takes for a transmission from a lunar settlement to Earth is about 2 seconds. Not so bad right? But the problem became more and more pronounced as settlements were established further and further with the communications delay being _five years _for a one way transmission_,_ and a _decade _if you wanted an answer. Naturally, this lack of coordination led to rather serious disagreements.

While the earliest non-laboratory FTL communications systems were unveiled to the public in the late 2190's it proved too little, too late. Humanity's far-flung colonies would not be able to get this technology for several decades and the companies that created these Quantum Entanglement Communicators, or QECs for short, refused point blank to allow the designs to be transmitted to the colonies. They would only permit the physical apparatus being moved to the colonies in their attempts to guard the secret to entangling particles. This unwillingness to cooperate and paranoia that the Colonials would attempt to reverse engineer anything they could get their hands on would play a major role in The Long War.

By 2359, all factions had at least one real-time communication to all the others leading to improved relations. However, there would always be the occasional flare up in hostilities when a combat ship without a QEC arrived at its destination.

___(-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-)_

_Escalation_

Many of the causes of The Long War can be traced to colonial governments. Instructions sent by Earth would be, at a minimum, ten years out of date, with forces to back up any words the better part of a century away. Because of this, several governors began passing laws to enrich only themselves and a select few, others cut horrific deals with corporations only looking to make a quick buck, and worst of all one governor even went so far as to legalize slavery. Needless to say, perpetually rising taxes, destruction of their homes, and increasing brutality of local governments began to stir civil unrest.

After a peaceful protest of working conditions in the mines was dispersed by use of lethal force on unarmed and largely cooperative civilians on Centauri II, many could see the writing on the wall. Less than a month later the planets of Centauri II, Centauri IV, and Landings (Centauri III) were in open revolt. Such were the opening shots of several colonial liberation movements with the opening event being known as the imaginatively named Centauri Revolts.

By the time word reached Earth that the revolt had begun the colonial governments of the Centarui system were on the verge of collapse. Shortly after reports began flooding in that colonial forces were losing badly against the assorted rebel factions. Conflicting reports on the nature of these faction stalled motions to send the various Terran fleets to handle the revolts long enough that it became irrelevant.

In the year 2198, the colonial government of Landings collapses as rebel forces seizes control the military vessels in orbit and use the ultimate high ground to decimate any remaining holdouts. After a one year clean up, the Centauri system geared up for war and independently developed their own first generation warp drive only a year after it was invented in the Sol system. Centauri forces prioritized taking and holding orbits over planets to permit strategic bombing via Rods From God. They pioneered early human space combat doctrine and most early generation space vessel improvements originated in the self-proclaimed Centauri Union. The Union would be in a near constant state of war with the newly minted Terran Confederacy for the better part of the next two centuries.

___(-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-)_

_Land Grab_

With several wars of independence raging throughout human space all sides raced to grab any resources they could. A common choice was to mine asteroids, comets, and planetoids for anything from iron and iridium to oxygen and water. Over time these hollowed out husks would become home to trading posts, way stations, military bases, and pirate groups. The original wartime headquarters of the Systems Alliance was even inside the asteroid Eros.

Bolstered with resourced acquired rebel forces began racing to cobble together a competent military force to face any retaliatory strikes from the Confederacy. To that effective most of these resources were used to build vast armies or armadas of computer intelligence controlled drones. This was necessary if the colonies hoped, I their minds at least, to reach numerical parity with the Confederacy which had a population of 17 billion people with 3% in various armed forces.

Despite the colonies having technical expertise in almost every field, they had a distinct lack of population. The Centauri Union was the most populous with only about 500 million residents total in the system at the beginning of the Revolts. The Sirius colonies were the worst off as far as population went with only 2 million residents. After three years of break neck mining, constructing, testing, and experimentation the colonies, with Centauri in the lead, had each amassed over a million ground and air combat drones. As well, the Independent League, a coalition of colonies in the Sirius system, had made major breakthroughs in the fields of artificial intelligence and space borne small attack craft or fighters.

However, even without knowledge of the build up in the colonies the Confederacy knew it wouldn't be able to reclaim its colonies. While the Confederate military was a sizable force at 3% of the human population of the Sol System it was mostly in ground forces. The high upkeep on a large standing space fleet meant that most of the individual nations that became the Confederacy simply could not afford to build large space fleets and concentrated more on lower upkeep ground surface forces. A simultaneous assault or mass mobilization on the colonies would have left the meager Terran space force spread too thin to even take on a mediocre fleet, and colonial forces were far from mediocre.

___(-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-)_

_The Big Leap_

After a ten year lull between the official declarations of independence by all but one colony not in the Sol System, the war kicked into high gear when a Centauri scout fleet attacked and destroyed a research station and military shipyard on Charon and in Pluto's orbit respectively. However, this would prove to be a major boon the Confederacy as it revealed that Charon was an artificial construct that became buried by debris from the Kuiper Belt.

Research into this mysterious machine was slow going. However, material scientists managed to recreate small quantities of its plating and the unknown, highly radioactive component. For the next hundred years scientists from all corners of human space would wrestle with the secrets of these engineering marvels until there was finally a solution to the problem. During an experiment to discover the nature of the highly radioactive low mass material in the Construct it was exposed to an electrical current. Later reports would confirm that even though it felt some form of "anti-graviton" field was created gravimetrics showed that no such field was generated. In subsequent testing it was found that although the electrified substance had little to no effect on gravitons it did affect how an object interacted with them.

More to the point, the scientist found that it appeared to alter the mass of objects in the immediate area. Forwarding their findings to several engineers a quiet race began to build a mechanism to capitalize on this discovery. In 2395 the first generation of slip-drives hit the market.

The earliest slip-drives built in laboratories were little more than Gerry-rigged warp drives. Initially, slip drives functioned by lowering the mass of the ship inside the bubble to allow the velocity of the object in the bubble to approach light speed. As the ship approached light speed the warp bubble would keep pace and the compressed space it created was traversed. This was dangerous and the control programs had to be on the ball with collision detection, but it was, math and engineering wise, much easier to accomplish.

The production model slip-drives were far safer and came with in-built programs to manage the Mass Effect and warp field interactions. They were also not without their flaws. They were high energy consuming and generated large amounts of internal heat, but in exchange they made the trip from Earth to Landings go from being two years to just over 6 hours. This massive boost in translation time coupled with the creation of prototype full eezo cores ended The Long War almost overnight due to fears of mutually assured destruction. Some of those fears were assuaged by the New Geneva Conventions and the Sirius Ceasefire which were ratified almost unanimously by all of human space.

Ever since all sides have been quietly stockpiling equipment for the coming war that would decide who would rule the local cluster. This Cold War would continue for the next fifty years. The catalyst that broke the stalemate was one nobody saw coming.

___(-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-)_

_Contact_

On January 22, 2448 a small prospecting vessel _UNV E-551 _(Umoja Naval Vessel), nicknamed the "_Werewolf"_, activated a Construct to travel to a previously unknown system. After getting strange reading from their passive sensors for the past day they activated their active sensors. Upon activation an unknown signature on the far side of the systems sun was detected. Without hailing or otherwise declaring themselves, the unknown signature opened fire. Communications were lost with _E-551_ until it exited the Construct and made for the nearby neutral world of Mindoir exhibiting severe damage. Five unknown contacts exited the Construct and proceeded to obliterate the limping scout ship. Weapon systems on the nearby research station managed to deter further pursuit and cause the contacts to retreat to the far side of the Construct.

After the incident, a team was sent to recover any remains of the crew. The decision made and an assistance request was sent to League FleetCom on Canis. Frigates _LSV Fox, LSV Rift, _and _LSV Walker_ along with the light carrier _LSV Loyal_ were dispatched to Mindoir and ordered to defend the colony at any cost.

Approximately 48 Sol Standard hours later, a force composed of 50 vessels of varying weight classes translated through the Construct. The Mindoir Planetary Defense Forces, League reinforcements, two Confederate trading vessels, a Union ambassador's corvette, and the 2nd Umoja Security Force were engaged by hostile contacts. They were engaged in orbit of the system's capital world, Mindoir, for one hour before enemy forces broke contact and retreated beyond the Construct.

All human forces promptly requested substantial reinforcements in the Mindoir system. This was a legal grey area as Mindoir was a Neutral World and several of the greater powers of human space were pledged to protect its sovereignty. However, once it was received that Mindoir was being attacked and would welcome any force willing to render aid to its people the vast war machine of humanity roared to life.

* * *

**A/N:**

Ok, TL;DR version, GO! Human expansion outpaces our communications ability leading to Revolts in the colonies. Revolts turn into full scale interstellar war and bloody planet side warfare. New methods of transportation and communication are developed greatly easing the diplomatic process and helping to end a two hundred year long war. Fifty years after the war has officially ended but the cold war is still going a scout vessel gets its lunch stolen before getting KO'd when it was almost to the finish line, no survivors. The baddies that did it come back with friends and attack a decidedly non-military planet but retreat anyway because Gondor Calls For Aid and the League (good[-ish] guys), Confederacy (grey doesn't even cut it), Umoja (mega-corp to the rescue!), Centauri (war is a way of life to these people), and the Neutral Worlds (who aren't really that neutral) answer.

Bug Bunny said it best,"Of course you realize, this means war."

As per usual, please tell me what I done goofed on so I can fix it. Just because this is for the funzies does not mean I can use poor grammar. Barring the A/N's of course. You don't have to read these.

Also, let me know if you want me to do more Codex stuff like this, shove off to its own little corner, or it shorter. Until next time, later!


	4. The Plunge

**The Plunge**

Bunker 12, Vortarus, Khar'shan

A baby was crying in the corner as its mother tried, fruitlessly, to calm it down. Two soldiers were guarding the door with their weapons raised, waiting for anything to dare to enter. Motes of dust floated through air clogged with the stench and heat of the people in the bunker, the ventilation system had failed a few hours ago and no one knew how to fix it. I the middle of the room the dying lay, quietly moaning as their lives slowly slipped away. And with all this, a soldier at the solitary table in the bunker dropped into a nearby chair.

Karhaf was taking inventory. The results were… less than stellar. There were fifty people in the bunker and only ten soldiers including him. One was unconscious, five were severely injured, and everyone had at least some kind of minor injury ranging from strained muscles to rolled ankles. They were down to a half a quart of water per soldier and would be throwing spit balls if they got into a fire fight. Karhaf's head thunked into the table as he let out an exasperated sigh.

After the first day of fighting they had lost over forty percent of the city. And not just from the regular assaults but also because the enemy had no qualms using the ultimate high ground to their advantage. Let's face it, it doesn't matter how good your position is when the enemy can drop a metal rod on you from orbit at Mach 15, and with pinpoint accuracy to boot. The one's that didn't get hit with orbital strikes were taken out by close air support or those damnable drones.

That was the worst of it he decided. That no matter where you were, a machine with no eyes and no soul could fall out of the sky and clear out your emplacement in under a minute. He shuddered thinking of his multiple close encounters with the machines of these apes. It was not their durability, though they were formidable. It was not their weapons, though they were clearly devastating. No, what made the machines terrifying to the warriors of Khar'shan was that even if you finally took one down two more would take its place. And they were just as emotionless and unstoppable as the last.

The light over the table flickered in time with the sound of bombs detonating on the surface. The roar of anti-aircraft fire answered back but was losing strength. Karhaf picked up his rifle and checked his heat sinks. Another air raid, they seemed partial to those, they did. They usually used them to drop off more drones and bomb anything they deemed 'hostile' into dust. He knew that more drones were landing by the second. His heat sinks only had twenty shots left. _Enough to take one with me_, he thought as he headed to the heavy steel door.

(-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-)

Khar'Shan Orbit, _SSV Bering Sea_

Staff Sergeant Salgado was itching to go. He and his Leopard tank had been sidelined to the transports since the landing had begun, but the higher ups had sent the word moments ago. The 3rd Armored Division was going to wreck some four eyed face. He grinned as the heavy drop ships began to spin up their engines, _Time for some payback_, _Death Before Dismount_.

(-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-)

50 km over Vortarus, Khar'Shan

The Star Ranger shook ever so slightly as it hit a density pocket. He looked up. Next to him, Cox finished sealing his suit for the high altitude jump.

_Somewhere there's a mother,_

_Who's cryin' for her son,_

He stared at the helmet in his hands.

"You know, they say that if you stare at it long enough the optics stare right back," joked Cox.

"Shut it Cox, we're almost to the LZ," snapped the lieutenant.

Everyone was on edge. This was it, time to prove it was all worth it.

_He's an Airborne Ranger,_

_And his work is never done,_

He glanced at the N7 crest on the side of the helmet before he put it on. It was a far cry from the Centauri Ranger gear he used to have. He wasn't complaining though. It had proven itself.

"Ten seconds to target! God be with you!" the pilot's voice announced over the speakers in the main compartment.

_So don't you cry him no tears,_

_He don't need your sympathy,_

"Get ready!"

"3…2…1…Go! Go! Go!"

With that the N7's jumped out.

_Here's hoping this works_, he thought as he plunged through an alien sky lit by artillery fire, glowing shrapnel, and burning aircraft.

_He's an Airborne Ranger,_

_Airborne Ranger Infantry,_

His HUD gave him the location of the rest of the team as they hit the cloud cover over the city. Enemy triple-A was lighting up as it attempted to shoot down the transports and their escorts. Several drop ships and escorts were now just so much fast moving shrapnel. However, the escorts were giving back as much as they received reducing several emplacements to ashes.

_Somewhere there's a father,_

_Fighting in a foreign land,_

He felt a lurch in his stomach as the micro-scale eezo core in his suit kicked in. It slowed his descent until he lightly touched down behind some cover. _Softer landing than a parachute_, he observed while pulling out his rifle. _Still feels weird_. A new weapon based off captured enemy equipment with _lots _of upgrades.

_He's an Airborne Ranger,_

_And his work is never done,_

The emplacement up the road was giving the drones from the League a hell of time. An orbital strike was out of the question with friendly assets overhead and those AA defenses were tearing the fly boys a new one. So that was out too.

_So don't you cry him no tears,_

_He don't need your sympathy,_

He flicked open the grenade sights. _They're what, 300-350 meters away? Yeah that sounds about right._ He steadied his breathing as he lined up the shot. The soft _whoosh_ made by the under slung grenade launcher gave way to a thunderous **BOOM** and blast of heat as the plasma grenade detonated. He was mildly impressed when one of the four-eyes managed to stumble away from the burning wreckage of his position.

_He's an Airborne Ranger,_

_Airborne Ranger Infantry,_

He assessed his next step towards the objectives as the drones took care of the few sorry bastards that survived the blast and heat wave. He had landed about 200 meter northeast of his target. Not bad, that put him about two klicks from Assembly Area Lima, the staging point for the mission.

_That's all he'll ever be…_

Engaging the cloak on his armor he calmly set off through the ruins of a once mighty city. He had appointment to keep. And a point to prove.

(-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-)

January 23, 2448

_UNV E-551 "Werewolf"_

Location: 40,000km over R12-S4-T4

He looked back at the information Sarah had put on his screen. _What the hell is going on? I must be losing it, there's no way. This place was deserted a week ago._ The thoughts were racing around his head in circles trying to find some sensible solution to the current problem. He was coming up empty handed.

"Sarah, can you double check this? This could just be some anomaly." The statement was hollow but what could he do? He might be willing to dive bomb an enemy position from orbit and go boldly where no man has gone before, but that doesn't mean he's keen on playing diplomat.

"Negative, the energy detected does not match any natural phenomena. Again, it is most similar to a ship venting excess heat from its systems," was the disappointing and monotonous answer.

_Well, time to face the music, _he grumbled to himself. A moment he turned to shout into the main area, "Sir, something just came up on long range scanners. I think you need to see this."

"What is it Salle?" asked the Chief as he re-entered the cockpit.

"Check this out, Sarah bring up the recording from thermal imager… that's the one thanks. Can you play it too? I need to do some quick maneuvering. Just watch the clip while I do this right quick," he said inclining his head toward the screen.

"What am I looking Salle? All I see is a bright red fuzzy dot near a planet."

Turn slightly to the left he said, "Sarah, could you give him the short version?"

"Most certainly," was the response he got.

"Then don't wait for me fill him in."

"Understood, what you a currently viewing is a side-by-side comparison of a thermal image and a standard optic shot. Thermal photography displays an image that would suggest there is a small star at the edge of the system. However, the optical scan easily refutes this, as well; the low variation in temperature and sudden appearance all imply that it is in fact a vessel of so kind."

"So someone else beat us here?"

"No sir, I had Sarah send a flash-comm* to the research station on the other side of the Construct. They said no one had gone through in the past month aside from us." The pilot quietly shook his head for a second and continued, "And if someone used a slip-drive to get here the ship would have to be bigger than that to just house the fuel. I mean, we are almost a _hundred light years _from the far end."

"So, first contact it is. But just to be sure, hit 'em with active sensors and send them an IFF ping. I don't feel like being laid low by a Confederate. Present company exempted of course." Gauntt smirked at the pilot.

"No worries just got to say that a stiff breeze could take you down right now though. So I won't even have to do it!" Touché Salle, touché.

(-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-)

**A/N: **

I see how it is formatting program. You don't like page breaks. Okay, I get it. Fine, be that way. I have ways of making things happen.

I kind of feel a little sorry about what's in store for poor Karhaf. He lives (at least that's where I'm at so far), but he just can't catch a break. Staff Sergeant Salgado is a tank commander (_I'm a tiny tanker_) for a UMS-42D2 tank. For a mental picture, take a Starcraft siege tank: get rid of siege mode, give it more durable electronics, a top speed of 70 mph, a coaxial rail gun, a top mount gun, and the ability to free-fall 200 meters vertically while moving at 200 mph horizontally and work just fine afterwards, and you get this marvel of Terran engineering.

Also, Holy upload Batman! Enjoy and don't forget to leave a review/commenty thingy mabob, because it could just make this story better.

*Slang for FTL communications

Until next time, hasta luego!


	5. The Halls Of The Mighty

The Halls of the Mighty

January 24, 2448

_UNV E-551 "Werewolf"_

1,000 km from Construct R12

"Mayday, Mayday, Mayday; Douglas Research Station, this _UNV E-551_, we are under attack by enemy unknown, have sustained critical damage to life support and gravitics. Requesting immediate aid and fire support, RA/Dec 45/15, 20 minutes of fuel left. 3 aboard, one comatose. How copy Douglas Station?" The cockpit rocked once more as the pursuing ship scored a glancing hit on starboard engine 2. _There goes the little bit of maneuverability I had left_, the thought made Salle grit his teeth. Gauntt was hanging onto his seat for dear life and Waltman was out cold from his chest injury. You could see the little globules of blood floating inside of his helmet.

"_UNV E-5…_ is a negative… last. I s…gain, that…a negat… last. You… re…qui…atic."

"Shit, well, maybe it was too much to hope for the comms mast to still be intact." He had to resist the urge to start banging the console when the garbled reply came in he had enough problems as it was. Waltman was looking pale in his pressure suit, probably because of the blood loss. His ship was almost torn in half, and to top it off the anti-inertial systems were almost dead so he had to cut speed or risk blacking out.

Salle shook his head violently from side to side trying to dispel the incoming flashback. War never really left people whole, but that was why their little crew existed, to put it behind them and move on. Well, War was back and she was pissed at being left in the cold.

The stressed pilot frantically wiped the condensation off his helmet and the console. They had put on the pressure suits as a precaution and vented or recycled as much of the atmosphere on the ship as possible before contact. Sometimes paranoia coupled with hard earned experience paid high dividends. The three on the ship proper had survived the first hit because of those preparations. The shot through the meager dining area would have killed Waltman if he had not been wearing his pressure suit. Also, he would be floating in the void if there had been any atmosphere in the compartment.

"Sarah! Where are we at on approach?!"

"Range is one hundred kilometers to the translation point."

"Boost our IFF signal to max! Prepare to sync LiDAR system to the BattleNet! Paint that bastard red for the station's guns!" Salle blanched as another bolt of red sailed past on the view screen. "And get that damn Mayday call out again!" His knuckles turned white under his suit as he gripped the controls. It was do or die time.

*OOo.

Douglas Research Station

In orbit of Construct R11

"May…day…ay; Dou…arch St…on, this _UNV E-…_e are u…k by enemy unknown, have su…ed critical dama…fe suppo…d gr…ics. Reques…diate aid…fire sup…A/D…15, 20 min…of fuel le…oard, one co…se. How….uglas Station?" The radio tech may not have been able to figure out the specifics but the bits that were understandable were clearly a distress call.

"_UNV E-551_ that is a negative on your last. I say again, that is a negative on your last. You are coming in quiet and static." After that all he heard was static. He called up tactical and passed on the bit about 'enemy unknown'. Five minutes later, he was glad he did.

*OOo.

January 27, 2448

Mindoir Ansible Communications Center

Elatha, Mindoir

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for taking the time out of your schedules for this meeting," he started, "I am aware that you are all rather busy pe-."

"Dispense with the pleasantries Ambassador Wallace," one of the holographic ambassadors cut in, "What the hell is going on? The rather uninvolved government of Mindoir doesn't exactly demand an emergency meeting without reason. You people seem to view it as a good way to avoid being controlled by others." The slightly shimmering visage of the Terran official, Ambassador Li, demanded with a rather severe look on his face. His hologram was seated in a soft looking chair behind a solid looking wooden desk. Vapors would occasionally appear as if something just out of view were steaming.

_Maybe I interrupted his morning cup of tea? _Wallace ruefully thought to himself._ If so he's going to be cranky all day._

"I have to agree with my Confederate colleague. In its entire history Mindoir has never pulled the proverbial string that, by treaty, could bring the entire status quo down. So why now? What was it that Ambassador Gruber's ship engaged? There are no vessels in any of our databases that match those ships. They're too small to house equipment like ours, and their kinetic weapons are certainly more compact than ours without sacrificing power as the former ambassador and his crew can testify." That would be Ambassador Hansen, a woman who had as much steel in her heart as she did in her hair. The Unionists never were ones for trading words, they enjoyed getting straight to the point. It was probably a side effect of how their civilization grew.

_Military minded, as usual, can't have anyone threaten Centauri space dominance now, can we? I don't see gaining their cooperation as problematic._ The Mindoir ambassador smiled inwardly.

"Personally, I would just appreciate an explanation for the families of the five hundred men and women who died in the attack. FleetCom would also like to know why they received a priority one 'invasion imminent' distress call from a Neutral world during _peace_ time. That is regardless of the actual attack, the bosses don't like being in the dark." Ambassador Dubois stated in an even voice. This man was like a personification of the League, calm, professional and quite lethal when the situation called for it. The video of him eliminating an entire hit squad on his own with only his wits and a knife proved it.

_Good hearted, as always. The League will jump at the chance to help "the little guys," the bleeding hearts they are. They'll never see me coming. _This would be disturbingly easy if not for the rest of the representatives present.

The other representatives of the assorted Neutral Worlds and even a couple of corporations nodded. Wallace took a deep breath. You needed your composition when you planned to play chicken with the most powerful people in human history that barely anyone knew existed. This was the same group that had ended the Long War after all.

With a self depreciating look on his face, he began again, "To answer your questions we are not quite sure. As of now the Mindoir PDF is examining the captured ships to see what we can learn. However the last transmission received from the exploration vessel that was being pursued indicated that the contacts were of alien origin." That got everyone's attention, especially the Umojan's. Wallace continued, ignoring the bead of sweat on the tip of his nose, "As such, the Mindoir government is requesting that under Article 24 Section 12 of the Border Worlds Treaty and Article 10 Section 2 of the New Geneva Conventions that any and all forces that can be allocated be assembled to launch a counter-offensive."

The response to that statement ranged from quiet shock to absolute outrage. Wallace had shot for the moon with that declaration. And he had backed it up with treaty to boot! All Hell broke loose in holographic conference room as the representatives tried to process what had just been said. However, in the general pandemonium, only two representatives remembered that to hit a distant target you had to aim a little higher.

*OOo.

5 hours later

"How did it go?"

"It could have been worse. Wallace used the Treaties as a Sword of Damocles. It wasn't his end game though."

"What do you think the Mindoirians want Ambassador?"

"Hmm, that one is simple enough to answer. Wallace was trying to get an actual military presence over Mindoir. He and his government probably don't even care where it comes from as long as it's there. We all received the reports. The defenders should have lost, badly."

"And yet, they didn't. Ambassador I wish to show you something. This is some of the video recovered from our ships. It would behoove you to observe."

The recording began. Fairly standard stuff as far as fleet movement went. All vessels staggered in three dimensions with the light carrier to the rear. Screening elements with good LiDAR and point defense out in front. A small text box showing the ship log noted when several of the combat vessels began to reduce atmosphere in the interior and when they began to set up a temporary BattleNet between the League, PDF, and Umojan ships.

"This is all fascinating stuff Chancellor, but if I wished to observe procedural space combat I would simply go to the training exercises."

"Ah, but this is where it gets interesting."

Seconds later a considerably sized fleet of fifty ships appeared not even ten light seconds from the defensive formation. The most concerning thing however, was not the number of ships, but how fast they were moving. The video was paused when the Chancellor began to speak.

"Sensor readings showed that these ships were moving a .05 percent the speed of light, with no discernible warp field. Station-borne gravimetrics did not detect any kind of graviton emission from these vessels. Also note their size, rather light on the engines and mechanical space to be able to move that fast with human technology."

"Agreed, even the Centauri don't have tech this good."

Nodding the Chancellor resumed the playback. As the space battle began to unfold the ambassador noticed a few things. First and foremost, the enemy ships made little attempt to out-maneuver or isolate elements of the defenders from the main force. Second, most of the enemy weapons were spinal mount cannons. While this gave them more stopping power they could not produce the volume of fire needed to truly cripple a military vessel. Hell, the _LSV_ _Fox_ was missing a good chunk of its port side and its engines were clearly damaged beyond saving, but it was still doing some damage to the unidentified ships.

Lastly, the enemy seemed to make only a slight effort to avoid incoming fire. At first he thought it was because of operator incompetence or superior armor. He dismissed the latter that when he watched two of the attackers disintegrate after a point-blank shot by the _LSV Rift_ using its own spinal cannon. No, these attackers had some of the most pitiful vessel plating ever, but what they had instead was a shield. It was hard to spot but it was there. The slight blue shimmer when a shot connected. The Chancellor saw comprehension dawn on the Ambassador's face.

"You see it now don't you. They use the Substance to make their technology work. We have labored for hundreds of years to solve its mysteries. Now we find a source for answers."

Suddenly, knowing gave way to absolute confusion.

"But if they know so much, why do they fight like idiots?"

*OOo.

Concurrently several light years away

"So what do you think of their capabilities Admiral?"

"Frankly, Madam President, they are an advanced yet incompetent military force. Traditionally, scouting elements are made up of soldiers from the top twenty-five percent of an armed force. These however, their skill is laughable but that is our only saving grace in this situation."

"I presume you are concerned about their technology?"

"Somewhat, yes, but the bigger problem will be numbers. If that truly was a scouting element then humanity better learn to kiss and make up otherwise we'll be crushed under the sheer number of ships they have. A standard deep space scouting group with strike capabilities is usually between eight and twelve ships depending on what you expect to find. A fast assault flotilla will normally have about twenty combat vessels plus a few supply and medical ships.

"They sent fifty ships into hostile territory, in the blind, in what would have been a textbook capability probe if had been done using drones. But each and every ship had live crew. We detected EM transmissions coming from their ships during the attack, likely trying to send reports or request aid. It just doesn't seem to fit. Their technology is simultaneously more and less advanced than ours."

"What is your recommendation then Admiral Grissom?"

"Even though it is exactly what Mindoir wants, I recommend we mobilize the 3rd and 5th combat fleets as well as the 2nd, 4th, and 6th support fleets."

The president shot him a quizzical look. "That is quite the investment, Jon. Five of our fleets activated to protect a backwater?"

"Madam President, that backwater is about to become part of the largest battlefield in human history. When the enemy comes back we need to be ready. The talking heads will undoubtedly call it an over-reaction and the Terrans will also protest our presence. But if there is one thing I'm certain of," Grissom stared her straight in the eyes as he said it, "we can't lose that beachhead."

*OOo.

January 28, 2448

His Honorable Lord Majesty's Hall of Glorious Ascendance

Lushay, Khar'shan

"Master, the rear-admiral has arrived."

"Very well, bring him here slave."

"Yes master." The asari bowed and swiftly moved to comply with her orders.

He heard the doors open and the slave tell the admiral of his audience. The door was shut a little too firmly for Balak's liking. They were solid wood craved from a rare species of tree found in the tropics. He resolved to discipline his slave after the meeting. It would not do for it to damage some of his more prized possessions.

"I trust the hunting went well, admiral." Balak said, greeting the tried looking admiral. "The traders wear you out already? Clamoring for the new goods are they?" A smile spread across his face at the prospect.

"No Lord Minister Balak, they are not. We could not even secure a handful of the primitives." The admiral was staring rather intently at the floor, waiting for the wrath of his superior.

"What?" came the sharp question from Balak, "I gave you twenty assault ships and even a few cruisers. There were twelve scout ships as well. Not to even mention the eight slaver ships you were given, and you mean to tell me that you did not even capture one of these creatures?" The words came out as a gravelly hiss.

"They were stronger than we expected. It was foolish of us to rush in headlong like we have done will several of the servant races. However, that is the benefit of hindsight. These new creatures are cunning, their ships both more and less advanced than ours. They know the art of war in space in a way we have lost. Not a single ship that broke from the our formation survived," The admiral waited for the inevitable. He hoped Balak would be gracious enough to make his punishment quick. A bullet to the head was preferable to the myriad ways the Hegemony rewarded failure.

"I see. Ensign, you have brought disgrace unto yourself, your unit, and this office. I hereby strip you of your rank and confine you to quarters until such a time I consider your services necessary. Is that clear?" Balak's tone was even and his punishment generous but it was a cold comfort to the disgraced admiral.

"Yes, Lord Minister, it is."

"Good, you are dismissed."

As the once admiral now ensign exited his office, Balak reached for his phone. He had some calls to make. Most were about an expansion in the slave market and the acquisition of a competent military leader. After finishing the more pressing calls he called up an old acquaintance, maybe the Ministry of Science would be interested in some new equipment and products to pull apart.

*OOo.

February 10, 2448

The Citadel

Serpent Nebula

Councilor Esheel was not fond of surprises. If something was surprising it meant that could be a threat, and she always preferred to remove threats before they appeared. Right now, a very serious surprise was in her hands, on a data pad, and it grated on her nerves. _Five _Mass Relay activations were logged by the Citadel Master Control System in the last galactic standard month.

Councilors Tevos and Sparatus sat in equally stunned silence. The implications of the data collected were disturbing to say the least. Initially, there had been some hope that it was just a sign that a new race was entering the galactic stage. Then, one by one, other very isolated Relays began activating. The many intelligence organs of the Citadel quickly came to one of three conclusions. First and least plausible, multiple young races had emerged at roughly the same time, in the same general region of space, with absolutely zero warning. Second and only slightly more plausible, a young race had managed to travel though the Relay System between the five relays undetected and without noticing the hubs of civilization on the way there. Lastly, and most likely of all, the Hegemony had called the Council's bluff.

The only commonality between the Relays involved aside from their activation times were their proximity to the Batarian Hegemony. Only a few short months ago the ambassador of the Batarians, one Edan Jath'perah, had stormed out of a meeting about the Batarians' continued use of slaves despite it being illegal in Citadel space. The threat of sanctions and tariffs being waved in his face did not exactly sit well with him. Neither did the way to avoid said sanctions and tariffs.

Esheel gave a frustrated grumble as she continued to read the report. That was always the problem with the Batarians, too entrenched in their 'traditions' to admit any kind of change. The Council was even willing to be lenient and give the Hegemony a fifty year transition period so they could move away from slave labor without crippling their economy. But no, the Batarians' sense of superiority and self-righteousness won the day with that discussion.

The STG report all but confirmed it. The tell-tale signs of Hegemony expansion were all there: large fleet movement, mobilization of their engineering corps with some combat arms for security, and the sudden jump in manufacturing. That the 'Department of Cultural Exchange' had been called in made it clear enough what was going to happen. They were looking for new sources of productivity. Still, in the back of her mind there was a little seed of doubt. It was too sudden, too impulsive for every the Batarians. This was a move on par with the Krogan seizing Asari and Salarian worlds, and _that_ started a war no one wanted to repeat, without even mentioning the possibility of a second Rachni War.

Something was happening in the Terminus and the Traverse and Esheel didn't like it.

*OOo.

**A/N: **

Turns out 'handful' is the correct way to write it not 'hand full' like most normal people do. Although one definitely sounds/looks weirder than the other.

On the note of weird stuff, I just powered through most of the _Evangelion_ fanfic _Nobody Dies_ which I found fairly enjoyable, if a bit cheesy, until it has Fuyutski play the role of John McClain. That was the point where I realized how far gone the series was and moved to something more grounded: _Shinji and Warhammer 40K_. Not really, but that made you pause for a second didn't it? No, I discovered the wonderful Halo/Mass Effect crossover that is _When There Was A Tomorrow_ by General Rage. I haven't gotten around to reading the sequel but if it's a good as _Tomorrow_ then I cannot wait to get my hands on it.

The next part is dedicated mostly to combat IN SPACE and how humans do things versus how a Modern Major General in former Council Space does things. Tactic, technobabble that means something, and gun porn ahoy next chapter! (It's not lemon promise!)

Also, I wanted to thank you guys getting this fic across the 100 follows mark.

As always, feel free to tell me what I did wrong/needs polish/you would like to see more of etc. in the review/commenty thingies.

Until next time, later!

**Edit: **5-16-2014: grammar and spelling fix, page break replacement.


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